A Dance in Blood Velvet

by Freda Warrington

  Leaving the garden through a side gate, Charlotte took Karl back to the hotel where she was staying with the Ballet Janacek.

  There, on her bed in the big shadowy room, they made love again. More gentleness and passion this time, no sense of the hours passing. With snowflake delicacy they stroked each other’s gleaming bodies, feeding on beauty without ever taking a drop of blood. This is almost too exquisite to bear, Charlotte thought; why does there have to be anything to life but this?

  Again, at the end, orgasm did not plunge her into the deeper lust for blood. She wanted to... but let the feeling go. And although Karl pressed his lips to her neck, he did not break the skin.

  He lay across her, teeth just grazing her shoulder. When he lifted his head and gazed down at her, dark red hair falling into his eyes, he looked as shaken as she felt. He was no longer smiling. Neither was she.

  “This is the danger, is it not, liebchen?” he said softly. “That desire can take us completely out of ourselves.”

  “Completely into someone else,” she said. “Yes. Like feeding...”

  “No, even more than that, because in taking blood you gain control; in sex you lose it. And to surrender our power like this is frightening...”

  “To a vampire?” she said. But she knew exactly what he meant. “Still?”

  “But I haven’t seen you for such a long time, Charlotte. The memories fade a little, so when we experience this again, the intensity is devastating. It can never lose its hold.”

  “I remember the first time,” she said. “I was a girl, ridiculously innocent until you seduced me. I had no idea such feelings existed; not outside guilty dreams, at least. Then you showed me and, God, I didn’t know what had hit me. I have never been so terrified, discovering how it could take me over, mind, body and soul. Just that tiny word that could never be mentioned. Sex. Infatuation, passion, love...”

  A faint smile lengthened Karl’s mouth. “I know. But let us be honest, neither of us was sorry, were we? And I tell you, it’s worse for a vampire, because we are not used to giving up our power in such an abandoned way.”

  “I had a foolish thought, just now. I wished we were both human. I wish we didn’t have to hunt for blood to live. That we had no worse cause for guilt than the fact that we aren’t married. But these thoughts are an irrational weakness, aren’t they?”

  “No, but they cause you pain,” said Karl. “And such pain can be dangerous. Sometimes I understand why Kristian forbade us from loving anyone but him and his God.”

  Charlotte turned on her side, propped her head on one hand. “Well, which do you prefer, love or self-control? Would you leave me, rather than be a slave to passion?”

  She asked idly, but regretted the question at once. If you can’t bear the answer, she thought, never, ever ask. She closed her eyes, felt Karl’s hand on her hip. Warm and divine his fingers felt, like silk.

  “Now, I never said that, beloved. But I might be forgiven for wondering if you distanced yourself from me for the same reason?”

  Charlotte thought of Violette and her heart sank. She shook her head. “It’s a lie,” she said, “this talk of self-sufficiency. We’re always in thrall to something. Someone.”

  “The dancer?” said Karl.

  “Don’t,” said Charlotte. She lay back, pulling him down. “Shh.”

  His long, leanly muscular body pressed the length of hers, and she felt the two sharp points of his fangs puncture her veins... Her back arched with the stinging pleasure. No human terror, but still there was an acute thrust of disbelief that he was not human... delicious amazement that she was unhuman, too.

  After a time, Karl curled his arm under her hair and drew her down to his throat. “Share the milk of Paradise,” he whispered.

  Hours later, Charlotte saw dawn glimmering through the windows. Time to enter the Crystal Ring to rest. Lying here with Karl, she should have felt supremely happy, but could not. She hadn’t asked the question. She’d put it off all night in favour of pleasure, but it hung in the twilight, a great iron bell that must toll eventually.

  While they bathed and dressed - Karl still in his black velvet - she was trying to summon courage to speak. Now, before it’s too late!

  “After the Crystal Ring,” he said, “I’m going back to Benedict. Will you come with me?”

  “Karl...”

  “It’s not an ultimatum, beloved. Stay here for now, if you wish. I only ask that we don’t spend months apart again.” He looked closely at her, concerned. “But be honest with me, and tell me what is troubling you.”

  Ask him! “I need your help.”

  “Yes?” He looked wary, but resigned, as if he already knew.

  “You’re going to say no, but please don’t, not at once. I want you to help me make Violette into a vampire.”

  “Liebe Gott.” He turned away from her. “I knew you were going to ask this.”

  “How?” she cried.

  “Instinct. Why else did you want to see me, after all these months?”

  “Karl, don’t! I’m asking for your help. I could have asked someone else, and never told you at all. But I don’t want secrets. I want you to be part of it.”

  “Charlotte, you cannot just -”

  “No, listen to my reasons! Don’t turn away. You can’t think I’d do this on a whim. Even Stefan has more faith in my judgment than you! Violette is ill. If we don’t transform her she won’t be able to dance much longer. She will be crippled.”

  Karl reacted calmly, but she felt him withdrawing with every word. This was precisely as awful as she’d dreaded.

  “Is her disease likely to be fatal?”

  “I don’t think so, but she will die if she can’t dance. She asked me to kill her; she said if I don’t, she’ll kill herself.”

  “A dramatic threat.”

  “But she means it.”

  He half-turned and said gently, “Then I am sorry she caused you pain. But the transformation cannot be used as a panacea for mortal ills. And whatever the reason, it would be wrong.”

  “Was it wrong to transform me?” she said. “Do you regret it?”

  “Yes, it was wrong, and no, I don’t regret it, but all the arguments still stand. Bringing you through the veil did not negate them. Don’t do it, Charlotte. Let her be.”

  “Let her die, you mean! Don’t you think it would be selfish, to keep this from her?”

  “Unselfishness is not the most notable attribute of vampires.”

  “Why do you hate Violette?”

  “Why do you hate Katerina?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t. Not now.”

  “Because I told you the truth; you have told me nothing. I don’t hate Violette, I feel nothing for her. But why do you care so passionately about her fate?”

  “She’s my friend, but she is something special; almost more than human already. I can’t explain,” Charlotte said fervently. “I don’t ask lightly; I never asked this for Anne, or Maddy, or...”

  “Exactly. What makes her so compelling?”

  “Her talent.”

  “There are many talented ballerinas. Don’t you realise that, as a vampire, she may have no desire to go on dancing? Do you care about your father’s atomic research? Do I play the cello, except for idle amusement? Does Andreas write great poetry? No, because when we enter undeath, mortal achievement becomes meaningless.”

  His intractable, quiet anger floored her. “Not Violette.”

  “Her art and her talent will outlive her. Isn’t that immortality enough?”

  “Not for her! Karl, please.”

  “No. I will not make another of our kind. You never know what you’re unleashing on the world. I took the risk with you because I couldn’t bear to lose you; but she is nothing to me.”

  “But something to me; doesn’t that count?”

  Karl ignored the question. “The transformation may kill her.”

  “Not her. She’s too strong.” Charlotte despaired of changing his mind. Hopele
ss, this argument; neither of them could or would give way.

  “How many of us can the world support before we are discovered, exposed, openly feared?”

  “How would they destroy us?” Charlotte said scornfully. “You carried out experiments in my father’s laboratory and found nothing... almost nothing.”

  “That is irrelevant. My fear isn’t of being destroyed, but of too many vampires being made. Perhaps Kristian had the right idea, to put certain vampires in the Weisskalt. He may have been justified in guarding his flock so zealously.”

  “You can’t be saying you’d kill other vampires, so a precious few could survive?”

  “Why not?” Karl’s tone was detached, inscrutable. “Are you and I and our friends not precious? Only so many wolves can prey on the sheep.”

  “Don’t.” Charlotte shuddered. “I never think of them as sheep, or as prey!”

  “I know, dearest. You find it so distasteful to touch a stranger that you have to believe you love them before you can feed.” A sound of denial escaped her throat but he continued, “And I am the opposite; with me it must be strangers, because I can’t bear to hurt those I know. But it doesn’t matter. These are delusions. We are predators, they are our prey. And they cannot support huge numbers of us.”

  Charlotte moved around him as he spoke, studying him from every angle. He changed with the light, like the sea. How icily ruthless he looked one moment; and then how troubled.

  “Just one more vampire, Karl. Not a legion. Why do you fear her?”

  Karl was hard to read, but from the merest lift of his eyebrows, Charlotte knew she’d hit the truth. He seemed startled that she noticed.

  She asked again, “What are you afraid of?”

  “You, sometimes,” he said, taking her hand. “I don’t know, Charlotte. I am not afraid; I simply feel that with Violette it would be dangerous, very wrong. You know it too, don’t you? I could stop you. If not with words, with force.” His hand tightened on hers and she stared at him. “But you know I’d never use force against you. I am not Kristian. The decision is yours.”

  “But what if you don’t agree with my choice?”

  “Leave her alone,” he said. “Come away with me.”

  “Dear God, do you think I don’t want to? If only! But I can’t.”

  They were both silent for a time. Karl’s eyes were contemplative, baleful. Eventually he said, “Well, in truth, the decision should be Violette’s. Dare you give her a choice?”

  “No,” Charlotte admitted. “I don’t think she’d understand. You said it yourself; no one can understand, until they pass through the veil.”

  Karl dropped her hand. “So I’m wasting my breath.”

  To her shock, he made for the door.

  “Karl!” When he didn’t stop, she said in distress, “If I transform her, will you ever forgive me?”

  His only reply was a brief backward glance, but the look said, I don’t think so.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “GAZING WHERE THE LILIES BLOW”

  Karl returned to Benedict’s house in the morning. Looking at the brown-brick cottage in the quiet leafy street, no one would dream that anything extraordinary was happening inside. Ruffles of Virginia creeper on the walls glowed vividly crimson.

  Karl stood outside for a few minutes, a familiar despondency spreading within him. Violette already has too much power over Charlotte, he thought. She’s the last person I’d wish to see made immortal. But if nothing I say will make Charlotte stop, it is going to happen.

  A horse-drawn cart clopped past; an old man in a cap cycled laboriously towards the town centre, trousers flapping. Ah, the sweet song of robins, even as autumn gathered...

  Perhaps I should be angry with Charlotte, Karl thought, but that would only drive her further away. Anger was not what he felt, anyway. He was calm, but dull pain made him long to feed; to recapture the pleasure of being with her, to release sorrow in a rush of blood-red ecstasy.

  That, however, would have to wait until dark.

  Entering the house, he heard voices in the parlour. Ben and Holly were talking in hushed, stricken tones as if they had received a monstrous shock.

  Karl found Holly huddled on the sofa, Ben leaning on the sofa-back with clasped hands, Katerina and Andreas listening. The fire burned strongly, painting their faces with orange light. Katerina, perched on the arm of Andreas’s chair, looked up at Karl with her strong eyebrows raised. Cool surprise, as if she hadn’t expected him to come back.

  Karl asked, “What’s wrong?”

  Holly had been crying; she was pale, her head bowed. Benedict straightened up and answered hoarsely, “We’ve had some bad news. My assistant at the bookshop, Maud, passed away this morning. Thing is, Holly woke me at dawn, frantic because she had a nightmare that Lancelyn had killed Maud. I told her to go back to sleep, but she couldn’t. So, to put her mind at rest, we went to Maud’s house to make sure she was all right.” He swallowed, turning greyish. “Her landlady was on the doorstep, seeing the doctor off. They told us that Maud had died about an hour earlier.”

  “From what cause?”

  “The doctor was cautious. Said it was probably a lung infection that worsened, or a severe asthma attack...”

  “Had she been ill before?”

  “Never, as far as I know. But Holly’s dream...”

  “Mrs Grey?” Karl said softly. “You’ve had these premonitions before.”

  She looked up, her eyes starkly bright against the ash-rose pallor of her cheeks. Although he felt intense sympathy, he knew that the attention of a vampire would not comfort her.

  “It wasn’t a premonition,” she murmured. “I actually saw it happening. It was like a weird, horrific dream, but somehow true. I saw Lancelyn telling Maud that he’d used her, and she’d let him down. Then a thin black figure appeared and leaned over her. I became her; as the creature leaned down, I felt all my heat being sucked out, a crushing coldness and languor falling on me - but I knew it was happening to her, not to me. It was horrible, I can’t tell you how horrible.”

  Karl thought for a moment. “It sounds consistent with the way a vampire might steal vitality rather than blood. The effect is to make the slightest illness fatal. It’s not usually so swift, but certainly possible.”

  Holly shivered at his stark confirmation. Karl said, “Well, Benedict, do you believe that Lancelyn was responsible?”

  “I’d rather not believe some of Holly’s visions, but... it’s so similar to what happened to James and Deirdre. The black figure sounds like the shades we saw at his house. If Lancelyn’s ‘daemons’ are some kind of vampire...” Benedict moved to the mantelpiece and lit a cigarette, hands shaking. Karl found the smoke unpleasant. “The victim could have been Holly! It doesn’t bear thinking about!”

  “No, I still don’t believe Lancelyn would hurt me,” she said. “Not fatally, anyway.” She raised her chin and gave Ben a painfully complex look. “I haven’t finished. In the vision, Maud lured me to Lancelyn’s house with a message that he... wanted to marry me in some kind of occult ceremony.”

  “What?” Ben gasped.

  Holly went on with obvious difficulty. “Then she claimed that she’d tricked me to my death, because - because you and Lancelyn wanted to get rid of me. But Lancelyn appeared to tell her, no, she was the one who’d been tricked. He’d set this vile trap for her, knowing she’d walk into it. So perhaps part of her message was real; that Lancelyn intends to steal me from you, Ben. What is the ‘Dark Bride’?” She spoke accusingly, through fierce tears. “How much of the vision is true? I’m damned if I know!”

  Ben looked blank, but rage glimmered in his eyes. “I don’t know, love. Perhaps he invaded your mind as he did with Deirdre. If so, if he imagines he can take you away from me and - God, he doesn’t deserve to live!”

  His vehemence made Holly wince. Remorseful, he went to her and touched her shoulder, his voice soft and pleading. “Look, darling, I know you’re reluctant to think ill of Lancelyn
, and furious about my summoning rituals - but can’t you accept now that I’m justified?”

  Karl saw her freeze under his touch. Anger flushed her cheeks, but her voice was small and diamond-edged. “Yes, Ben, I know. I had little sympathy for Maud, but the way Lancelyn dealt with her was brutal, completely unforgivable. Everything I felt for him died with Maud. I’m on your side, Ben. I support you absolutely, unconditionally, in everything.”

  His face shone as she spoke. He opened his mouth to express delight, only for Holly to push his hand off her shoulder, almost slapping it away, as she leapt up and marched to the door. Ben stared after her in dismay. “Holly!”

  The door slammed and she was gone. Ben turned and thumped the mantelpiece so hard that a vase fell over and smashed on the grate. “Damn it to hell!”

  “I’ll go after her,” Andreas said, standing up.

  “I shouldn’t,” Karl said sharply.

  Andreas gave a twisted smile. “She trusts me.”

  “All the more reason for you to stay away from her, then.”

  Andreas blinked, cat-like, as if to say, What are you going to do about it? but he remained in the room.

  “Why are you angry?” Karl asked, turning to Ben. “This isn’t your wife’s fault.”

  “I’m not angry with her. It’s bloody Lancelyn. I thought I’d got the edge on him. But he’s mocking me, showing he still has the most power and can do what the devil he likes - and I can’t retaliate because I don’t know where in hell he is! Can I never bloody well win?”

  “But why should you win?” Karl said coldly. “Have you a God-given right to win, or to use unnatural forces as a weapon?”

  “No more and no less than he has,” Benedict said through his teeth. “We’ve got to find him. Finish him before he finishes us.”

  Katerina said, “He’s right, Karl. This may have begun as a foolish human affair but it affects us all now. Lancelyn is dangerous.”

  “I know,” said Karl. “Benedict, if I were you, I would make sure Holly is safe. Are you sure you have full control over the other vampires?”

  “Yes,” Ben said, “but I’ll go after her anyway. Damn, I wish she’d gone to her mother’s!”